ReaderxRussia One Song
by Luckysee12
Summary: One song can land you in a world of trouble. One song can lock you away. One song can let you find the one you're looking for.
1. Chapter 1

**ReaderxRussia**

**This is going to multichapter, so await the rest! In this fic you have a curl. Your curl is like Male!Belarus's curl.**

**This first chapter you are Little!Reader.**

"Big Brother America, is this the meeting room?" You asked, looking to the big oak doors in front of you. "Yup, and I'm going to be introducing you to the other countries, k?" America beamed at you. You stood there, a little nervous, your curl twitching. "Could you introduce me slowly, and not in front of everyone. I d-don't want to draw too much attention." "Sure, anything for my lil sis!" You were the small island nation of (country name). You had been found by America after you had been isolated for years and he became your big brother. He was finally going to show you the world, and the other countries. For some time you had been studying maps and history books, trying to get a foothold in everything everyone else already knew.

America gave you a small nod and you both slipped into the room quietly, and you stood behind him. First your big brother lead you to a bushy-eyebrowed blonde, who seemed a little mad. "Hey Iggy! How's it going?" "Don't call me that confounded nickname! I'm fine, thank you very much." The man huffed. "Well, I have something to show you-" "America, if it's a hamburger I don't want to see it." "It's not a hamburger." America shook his head. "It's my little sister." He stepped to the side, revealing you. "I-I'm (Country name). But my human name is (Name)." You told him, nodding your head slightly, as a form of a bow. "Is this another one of your states, America?" "I-I'm not a state! I'm a country." You told him, a little mad that he didn't realize that you were a country.

"Ohonhonhon, another country, you don't say." France appeared into the conversation. "What a beautiful mademoiselle. I am France, country of love," He told you, bowing down and lightly kissing your hand. "If you want to get into my pants, you should just leave now." You deadpanned. "And either way, I have the appearance of a 14-year old, do you really think my body is ready for that sort of thing?" America started laughing his ass off. "Way…to…go...(Name)!" He wheezed out between laughs. France was mortified. "But I am the country of love!" He said, nudging closer. "Self-proclaimed country of love. There are several others that could say the same. Spain, Italy, there are other countries that do just as well." France looked like he took an arrow to the knee. America couldn't stop laughing. "Well, (Name), why don't we leave these idiots alone for a moment," England told you as he escorted you farther from the two. He sat you down next to him, and a large nation you didn't know on your other side. "So, (Name), what music do you like?" England asked, trying to start a conversation. Your eyes brightened. "We didn't have very many instruments in my country so when America showed us music, my country's people didn't know what to make of it, but we learned that we really love music! The music that is popular now is not the mindless 'clubbing' songs America likes. I like Nickelback, Guns and Roses and the Beatles."

England was impressed. "The Beatles? What's your favorite song by them?" You hesitated. "America won't let me sing it." England was a bit confused. "Why is that?" "Because he doesn't like it." "Well, what song is it?" "Could I sing it to you?" England nodded. "That would be fine." "Good, it goes like this…"

You took a breath and began to sing lightly. You weren't perfect, but you had a very nice voice and it sang the words well.

"Oh, show me round your snow peaked

Mountain way down south

Take me to your daddy's farm

Let me hear your balalaika's ringing out

Come and keep your comrade warm

I'm back in the USSR

Hey, you don't know how lucky you are, boy

Back in the USSR

Oh, let me tell you honey-"

"(NAME)! ARE YOU SINGING THAT SONG AGAIN?"

You yelped lightly, covering your head. America grabbed you by the scruff of your collar and began dragging you out, you trying to stay up on your feet. "Ah-Am-America!" You gasped as he led you out into the hallway. "I said NEVER to sing that song, (Country name)." He called you by your country name. You were in deep trouble.

"Do you realize who you just sang it next to? DO YOU?"

"N-no!" You whimpered, flinching.

"YOU SANG IT NEXT TO THE FUCKING COMMIE HIMSELF!"

You covered your ears. "I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!"

"Like hell you didn't! We're going."

"But A-America, the meeting-" America grabbed your wrist and began taking you down the hallway.

"The meeting can rot in hell, because you are not going."

"B-But I was supposed to-"

"I DON'T CARE RIGHT NOW (Country name)! YOU ARE NOT GETTING INVOLVED WITH THAT COMMIE!"

"I never said I was!" You yelled back. He began dragging you even rougher down the hallway, nearly taking your arm out of its socket. "Pl-please America, I-I didn't mean to! Please let me go!" You started to cry. "Why are you like this?"

"You are under lockdown now. You are not coming to another meeting, or leaving your country until you wise up about what you do." "America, aren't you supposed to be fighting for freedom?" You say, and he yanked you a bit roughly. "This is for your own good." He said shoving you in the back of the car.

One song can do a lot of damage, can't it?

**I don't own Hetalia, You, or the Beatles. **

**Review?**


	2. Chapter 2

It had been decades since you left your island home. America went back to being the loving brother you knew him to be, but whenever you brought up the subject of world meetings he went stone-cold. You weren't sure why the one song made him so angry, but you knew that he was not one to go against when he was angry. After getting angry he would usually throw what was in his hands at you, yell at you and storm out, usually returning in a few days as if nothing happened.

By now you still wanted to go back out and see the world. You had barely seen any of it and you knew eventually you would need to go back to meetings. You couldn't be sentenced to your island forever. America had influence over you, but you _are_ independent after all, and you should be able to interact with other countries.

Eventually you had enough and found out the date of the next World Meeting from America's papers when he wasn't looking. It had been so long ago since you last went to the meeting. You were now at the appearance of a young adult, above 21 at least, so you could drink at a bar and show your id without anyone suspecting you of being a minor. You filled out more, your curves replacing where you used to have a little baby fat.

Finally it was time for the meeting and you were finally getting off the island. You went to your capital city and got on a plane under a false name and passport, which you were easily able to get. The meeting was being held in London, the same place the other meeting was before.

After you got off the plane you felt a gnawing guilt in your stomach. _Maybe I shouldn't have done this. What if America gets mad at me?_ You swallowed up your fear and checked into the hotel the meeting was being held at. You unsurely walked down the hallway, looking for the conference room.

A blonde man brushed up against you. "Oh, I'm sorry!" You apologized, looking at the man, discovering it to be England. "No, it was my fault. Who are you?" He asked, walking with you down the hallway. "You don't remember me?" You pouted lightly. You had hoped that you'd be recognized, even though it had been a long time.

"I'm afraid I don't. Sorry, love." "I didn't expect you to, but I hoped you would have. I-Is America here?" You timidly ask. "No, he said he had to visit a sister of his." Your heart nearly stopped. "Did you catch her name?" You ask hurriedly. England thought for a moment. "I think he said her name was (Name)…" You had a look of pure horror plastered over your face. "Ohgodohgodohgod! I'm dead!" You began to panic, smacking your head repeatedly on the wall. "I shouldn't have left! I'm on lockdown dammit!" "Lockdown?" England asked you, trying to stop you from smashing your brains on the wall.

"I'm (Name), and I'm not supposed to leave my country. I've been on lockdown for decades. Dammit he's going to kill me!" You absent-mindedly rubbed your hand over your neck, over a scar from when America threw a glass bottle at you. Being a relatively young country your personal scars took a long while to heal. "Do you know when he left to go to my country?" "He called me about ten minutes ago saying he landed at the airport."

You were dead. You were worse than dead. FML. "Remember that girl who sang that Beatles song?" "Ah, yes, I remember her. What about her?" "I'm her." You told him. "Because of that song I've never been allowed to come here and if I did… America never did tell me what he'd do." You told England, rubbing the scar again.

A certain nation was down the hall, listening to the conversation. That Beatles song. He remembered it. The girl who sang it intrigued him, and he was going to speak to her until America dragged her out of the meeting room. Since then she had taken up a small corner of his mind, not so large as to think of it when he could ask America about her, but when he would be alone on cold wintry nights, he would think about her. So America was why he hadn't seen her. That would change.

"He won't do anything, da?" A large gloved hand rested on your shoulder. "R-Russia." England stammered, letting you know who was behind you. "I enjoyed that song. I've wondered who sang it." He said lightly squeezing your shoulder. You turned around to be greeted by a large man. He had a smile on his face, framed by beige hair, almost like apple cinnamon oatmeal, and purple eyes. He was a good deal taller than you.

You were about to reply when you felt a quick sharp pain at your temples. You gasped as visions filled your mind.

_America came into your house, smiling but that fades when he sees you aren't there. He saw the fake passport registration that you had foolishly left on the counter. He knows what you did. He wasn't pleased. He began to trash the house, leaving broken furniture and memories in his wake. When he reached your room he made sure to leave plenty of damage. He tore up your blankets, ripping open your mattress and pillows, feathers flying through the air as he smashed your momentums and picture frames. He stepped on the picture of you two when you first met as he walked out the door fuming._

"Ah…My house…" You said after the visions left. That house was a lot to you. That was where you had spent most of your time after being stuck on your island. Watching your 'dear brother' smash them hurt. "Are you alright (Name)?" England asked you. "A-America knows I'm here. H-he trashed my house. He's c-coming here." Before England could say anything he swept you up, and had you in his arms bridal style. "You'll come with me, da? Then you wouldn't have to face Amerika?" He said, carrying you down the hallway. Your eyes widened, but you let him carry you off anyways.

A few nations poked their heads out of the meeting room, looking at you and Russia, whispering amongst themselves. You couldn't help but blush and lower your head, to which Russia just chuckled and carried you away.


	3. Chapter 3

"R-Russia, where are you taking me?" You finally asked after getting into a car that the said man ushered you into. "We're going to my house. You said Amerika ruined yours, da?" He said looking at you from the driver's seat before turning his eyes back to the road. You nodded from the front passenger seat. "I guess that would be fine, but I don't want to intrude…" Russia smiled at you. "It will be no problem. I live alone now, and my house is too large for myself alone. I won't mind you being there." You smiled and nodded your head. "Still, I want to thank you." Russia looked off the road for a second and put a hand on your head gently, turning back to the road every few seconds, and smiled at you. "No thanks needed, котёнок."

"What did you call me?" You asked, lightly tilting your head under Russia's hand. Russia didn't answer you; he just began humming a song you couldn't identify. You yawned lightly, stretching your arms out behind your back, pushing your chest forward. "Nyaaa~." You yawned and rubbed one eye.

Russia noticed this and couldn't help but think it was adorable. "You can sleep if you want. We won't be at my house for a long time." "I'll stay up, to keep you company." You told him between yawns. Before you could say anything else you nodded off, asleep even though you said you were going to stay awake. Russia chuckled lightly, driving down the road.

When you woke up, you were being carried into a big house bridal-style by Russia. Unconsciously you snuggled a little closer to him, and Russia didn't seem to mind, no he seemed to enjoy it. "We're home котёнок." He said, shifting you into one arm while he opened the door. You didn't take much notice of your surroundings, you were still sleepy and you wanted nothing more than to sleep in the big Russian's arms.

Russia seemed to detect this and he carried you upstairs to a bedroom. He laid you down on the bed gently and took your coat off for you, and slipped off your boots, tucking you under the covers protectively. As he turned around to leave the room you reached out and grabbed his coat, almost asleep. He turned around to see you partly fallen out of the bed, your shoulder and arm out from under the covers, pulling him back. You only said one word before closing your eyes.

"Stay…"

Russia discarded his boots and his coat before climbing in next to you in the bed, causing the bed to dip slightly under his larger frame, and that made you roll up next to the big Russian. You reached out in your sleep and hugged him to you, cuddling him like a big teddy bear.

Russia had no complaints, and watched you sleep, and listened to your soft breathing and heartbeat before he too fell asleep.

**A/N: **

**Translations: Котёнок =Kitten.**

**Well, here is your update and so soon after the last one! Russia is totally like a big teddy bear I'd like to thank Blueladymare and Progota for being my faithful reviewers, and I wouldn't mind adding more reviewers to my list of thanks, so keep reviewing and sending me love!**


	4. Chapter 4

Soft beams of light graced the room when you woke up, the rays lazily illuminating the man watching you. Russia had a light smile on his lips, a content look in his beautiful purple eyes. You yawned lightly, and rubbed at one eye as you told him a lazy "G'mornin' Russia." "Call me Ivan." You nodded sleepily. "Ivan." You mumbled softly, burrowing yourself back into the sheets, making sure you didn't hog so much of the blankets as to take away from the large Russian.

After being buried deep in the covers, Russia reached his arms around you and pulled you and your blanket cuccoon close to him. He began to pet your hair softly. "It's been so long since i've slept with someone." He said still moving his hand soothingly over your head. "It's been a while for me too. America used to fall asleep with me after reading me bedtime stories." You said, a heavy look on your face.

America….

"I-I don't know why he's been acting like this. He used to be such a good brother. He was always nice to me, I don't know why he got so mad. What happened to my brother?" You whispered, bowing your head into Russia's chest, a few tears starting to form at the corners of your eyes. "W-Why is he like this, Ru-Ivan?"

Russia let out a shallow, long sigh. "Have you heard of the Cold War?" You shook your head. "Well, the Cold War was your _brother_," Russia said that word coldly. "and I were fighting for world influence. During this time, America began thinking I was a, how do you say, bad guy? That's over but he still thinks that I am a 'bad guy'." You nodded, understanding. "But what does this have to do with how he is acting?" You asked, looking up at him.

"He probably thinks that if you get involved with me at all that you'll, how Amerika would say, turn you into a bad guy." You pouted. "Why would he think that? You've never been anything but nice to me." You tightened your hug on him, giving him a light squeeze. "I don't have the cleanest past." He admitted. "Does anyone? Not even I do. Before America found me I had two civil wars." You told him, lowering your sleeve, exposing the skin of your neck. A long scar twisted from just above your collar bone, twisting over your shoulder, stopping short of the bottom of your shoulder plate. The scar was an inch thick at its thickest point.

"That was the first civil war. Thankfully my country united again. Sometime afterwards another civil war began…" You turned around, showing your back to Russia. You pulled up the back of your shirt. "This war was worse. About one third of my people died, and I began to split in half." The scar was thinner, but much longer. It swirled around your back, starting at your left hip, curling around until it came to where your heart was. Here a crudely drawn heart was drawn, like a small child's drawing.

"Another me, but not _me_ came out of the heart shape. She was only out of me for a few seconds before she was sucked back in. My country had united and what would have been the country of (different country name), _her_, wasn't ever there. But the scar is." Russia traced two fingers along the heart, sending some shivers up your spine. It was cold, a cooling feeling, but unknown. You hadn't had anyone touch your scars.

"Not even America had seen these scars." You whispered quietly. "Why are you letting me see them (Name)?..." Russia asked you just as quietly. You sighed. "Well, this maybe a bit crazy, but I trust you, Ivan. It's been what, a day since we met, but I trust you." You heard nothing from behind your back, Russia was being silent. "I trust you." You repeated softly, the words barely making it past your lips. "I trust you too." Russia said just as softly.

"I guess we are both crazy then." You giggled, flipping back over to face Russia. "But crazy can always be fun." You smiled. Russia's eyes were closed and he was smiling contently, like a cat curled up on its owners lap. You closed your eyes too, just breathing inwards and outwards. He smelled woodsy, the sort of smell from a fresh snowfall. You could feel where the bed dipped underneath him, and how Russia's warm breath curl around you, letting you know that he was there, if the other reminders didn't.

"You know," You began softly. "You didn't tell me what Котёнок meant." You said, trying to pronounce the foreign word. "It's a term of endearment. It means kitten." Russia didn't open his eyes, but a slight smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Kitten? Kittens are so cute." You giggled. "Are you comparing me to a kitten?" Russia opened one eye. "Comparing? There is no comparison." You giggled again. "The kitten totally won!" You joked, pulling the covers around your chin. Russia opened his eyes and frowned, not seeing you were joking. "No, you are much cuter." He said, nearly pouting like a small child.

You reached out your hand and ran it down the side of his face. "I was joking Ivan." You told him smiling. He lightly grabbed your wrist, stopping your gentle stroking motions. He nuzzled into your hand slightly before leaning into you. He touched his forehead to yours. "Do not joke about how you look. Ты красивая. Ты милая. Ты нежная. Ты такая добрая. Я тебя люблю. Я буду всегда любить тебя " "What did you say?" "The truth, (Name)." He said before moving forwards, touching your lips to his, matching each other, melding together.

After you parted, Russia gently put his hand on the small of your back the other arm wrapped around your waist loosely. He cuddled up with you, his lips resting on your forehead. You two stayed like that the rest of the day, and both of you could honestly say that you wouldn't want to do anything else.

**You are beautiful: Ты красивая **

**You are sweet: Ты милая **

**You are gentle: Ты нежная**

**You are kind: Ты такая добрая **

**I love you: Я тебя люблю **

**I will always love you: Я буду всегда любить тебя**

**Thank you to my last chapter's reviewers Aurora rose1001 and shadowwolf49! Thank you for the reviews and like I said last chapter, I don't mind adding more reviewers to my 'thank you' list!**


	5. Chapter 5

A few days blew by, and you and Russia were off to another world conference. "Are you sure that you're ready for this (Name)?" You nodded. Russia had been filling you in on how the other countries acted, and what they were like.

"I need to talk to America. And Belarus." Russia nearly slammed on the brakes. "Belarus? Why are you going to talk to my sister?" "Just trust me on this. I need to talk to her." Russia sighed sadly. "Very well." He finally submitted.

By the time the both of you got to France, where this conference was being held, it was about an hour before the conference would start, and a few countries were milling around the conference room. You spotted the one you were looking for.

You walked up and introduced yourself. "Hello Belarus. I am (Country name). Could I speak to you privately for a moment?" Belarus looked at you for a moment before nodding. You lead her to where one of the private conference rooms were.

She went first, and you shut the door behind you. Your formal, warm tone melted away. "Belarus, I have something very serious to tell you. You aren't going to like it, but I want you to hear me out." Belarus stared at you icily for a moment. "Very well." She said.

"Your brother and I are in a relationship now."

Belarus's face froze in a smile. "Oh really?" She said in an icy tone.

"Yes, and I know you love your brother."

"Big brother is mine." She affirmed, staring into your (eye color) eyes, almost into your soul.

"But I need to say, is it the love you think it is?"

Belarus stopped. "What do you mean? Love is love, and I love my brother. He will marry me!"

"Belarus, if you loved him, would it matter if he was with you?"

"Of course it would! BIG BROTHER IS MINE!"

"But what if being with someone else made him happy?" "He is supposed to be with me!" "So it doesn't matter if he is happy? What kind of love is that? What does it matter if he is yours, if he isn't happy?"

Belarus shook slightly, shivering under this realization. "Big brother w-was always there for me. W-Why wouldn't he love me, and be happy?" "Belarus, he does love you," She inhaled sharply. "But it's not in the way you think it is. He cares for your safety, and wants you to be happy, because he loves you as a **sister**. Even if he doesn't want to marry you, isn't it good that he loves you?"

Belarus started to cry. "I-I just want to make him happy."

"I do too, Belarus. And if I don't make him happy, I will go. Alright?" You placed a hand on her shoulder. She flinched, but stayed under your hand. "Make him happy, alright?"

You nodded. "I promise."

You both exited the room, both of you smiling. Belarus wiped the tears from her eyes, and hugged you.

"Make him happy."

After she left, you heard someone.

"Well, there you are (Name). I was beginning to worry you wouldn't show." A familiar voice rang out behind you, venom dripping from every word. A hand was placed on your shoulder. "Imagine my surprise when I found out you left, and adding insult to injury, went home with that commie?" The voice hissed.

"I can do what I want _big brother_. I'm a free country, just as you are."

"You shouldn't have left."

"What does it matter if I leave?" You said, turning around. "Why does it matter so much?"

"Because I love you (Name)! If you go with that-that communist, I'll lose you!"

His blue eyes showed hurt. "I'll lose you." He repeated.

"America, you won't lose me. Ivan isn't like you think."

"So, I'm too late, then? You're on a first name basis with him already."

"Da, she is with me, Amerika" A hand rested on your shoulder.

"But just because I'm with him, doesn't mean you aren't my big brother."

America smiled. "As long as you're happy (Name). I'm sorry I've overreacted so much." You smiled back. It's always so much better when things work out.

You had your happy ending.

You had your one last song.


End file.
